370 THE YOKUTS. 
a nook of the mountains. Doubtless they would eventually have seized 
all the streams emptying into Tulare Lake, but they seem to have become 
enervated by the malaria, and reduced to the same condition of sluggish- 
ness as the people whom they displaced. 
At the time of the American advent, therefore, the Yokuts occupied 
the south bank of the Fresno; the San Joaquin, from Whisky Creek down 
to the mouth of the Fresno; King’s River, from Mill Creek down to the 
mouth; the Kaweah, Tule River, and Deer Creek; the west shore of 
Tulare Lake, and the isolated mountain-nook at Fort Tejon. 
Their tribal distribution was as follows: On the San Joaquin, from 
Whisky Creek down to Millerton, are the Chik’-chan-si; farther down, the 
Pit’-ka-chi, now extinct. On King’s River, going down stream, are the fol- 
lowing bands, in their order: 'Tis-e’-chu, Chai-nim’-ai-ni, It-i’-cha, Wi’-chi- 
kik, Ta’-chi, No-toan’-ai-ti, the latter on the lake, the Tachi at Kingston. 
On Dry Creek are the Kas-so’-vo; in Squaw Valley the Chu-kai’-mi-na. 
On the Kaweah River, beginning in the mountains, are the Wik’-sach-i, 
Wik-chum’-ni (in the foot-hills), Kau-i’-a (onthe edge of the plains), 
Yu’-kol (on the plains), Te’-lum-ni (two miles below Visalia), Chu’-nut (at 
the lake’. On Tule River are the O-ching’-i-ta (at Painted Rock), Ai’-a-pai 
(at Soda Spring), Mai-ai’-u (on South Fork), Sa-wakh’-tu (on the main 
river), Ki-a-wet'-ni (at Porterville). At Fort Tejon are the Tin’-lin-neh 
(from tin’-nilh, “a hole”), so called on account of some singular depressions 
in the earth in that vicinity. A little further north, near Kern Lake, are 
the Po-hal’-lin-Tin‘leh (squirrel-holes), so named on account of the great 
number of ground-squirrels living in that place. 
In the Yokuts nation there appears to be more political solidarity, more 
capacity in the petty tribes of being grouped into large and coherent 
masses, than is common in the State. This is particularly true of those 
living on the plains, who display in their encampments a military precision 
and regularity which are remarkable. Every village consists of a single 
row of wigwams, conical or wedge-shaped, generally made of tule, and 
just enough hollowed out within so that the inmates may sleep with the 
head higher than the feet, all in perfect alignment, and with a continuous 
awning of brushwood stretching along in front. In one end-wigwam lives 
